


TommyInnit- prison flu

by ijustkindawriteiguess



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, dream - Fandom, tommyinnit - Fandom
Genre: Flu, Fluff, Gen, Sickfic, Vomiting, hes stuck in a box, slight Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 04:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijustkindawriteiguess/pseuds/ijustkindawriteiguess
Summary: Tommy gets flu while trapped with Dream, the usual.This fic was also a request! If you have one, be sure to let me know! Don’t feel embarrassed at all, other people have requested and I will always get to yours!
Comments: 14
Kudos: 99





	TommyInnit- prison flu

Tommy had now been in prison with Dream for 3 days. 

3  
Days

In that amount of time, even though he was isolated with literally one person, the 16 year old had begun developing symptoms of the flu.

Sam begun checking the CCTV even more regularly, just to ensure the child was okay.

Tommy curled in on himself on the cold floor, refusing to eat the raw potatoes Dream offered to him, only moving to have a drink or use the toilet.

“You seem sick.” Dream stated the obvious, perched atop the sink with a fresh book in his hand.

Tommy didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response, instead taking a deep yet shaky breath.

The psychopathic prisoner wouldn’t give up that easily, quietly closing the book before placing it I the chest and sitting beside Tommy.

Dream then begun to rub Tommy’s back, which was drenched in a layer of sweat.

The teen shook from both fever and pure terror, but was otherwise paralysed on the floor. If he weren’t, he’d have launched himself into the lava by now.

“I told you, I’ve changed.” Dream soothed, using that sickeningly sweet voice Tommy was growing to despise.

Speaking of sick, the teen could also feel bile beginning to rise in his throat. Tommy believed this was more so caused by anxiety of the situation than his newfound illness.

Whatever caused it didn’t matter, what did matter was the fact that Tommy was going to vomit.

“Dream, I’m gonna be-“ the teen was cut off by a gag, a deep, forceful gag that kills the back of your throat.

Dream didn’t move like Tommy expected him to, instead he helped Tommy sit up, and pat his back.

“I’m here for you, okay? Don’t worry.” 

That was enough to set him up, coughing up the disgusting mixture of raw potatoes and water.

Sobs wracked his small frame, causing the teen to shake even more. Dream only shushed him, pulling the collar of Tommy’s shirt and using it to wipe his mouth.

“Get the fuck off me.” Tommy mumbled, making an attempt to push the devil away. It didn’t exactly do anything, but the thought was there.

Sam sat helplessly at the cameras, hours of footage replaying on all the separate screens. He was desperately to try and find out what caused the security breach, so he could take Tommy away and so the child would never have to look at...him, again.

The child in question continued to sob, even after Dream had moved him away from the mess on the floor and lay him back down.

Everything hurt, and a feverish ache nuzzled every single muscle in the teen’s body. Safe to say, he wasn’t having the best time.

Dream began gently stroking Tommy’s hair, just as Wilbur had done to him throughout his childhood.

Tommy had to admit it felt nice, and because of his feverish state and the fact he had no idea what was going on, he relaxed.

“Wilbur...” he mumbled, his voice hoarse from a multitude of things; the amount of screaming he’d done a few days prior, the fact he’d just thrown up and the cough he’d developed due to illness.

Tommy’s chest heaved as he tried to clear the phlegm on his chest, but to no avail.

Dream did have to admit, it was slightly upsetting to see Tommy in this state...but karma is a bitch, so he could live with it.

Still, he decided to comfort the sniffling teen as to try and win his trust back. Up to this point, nothing had been working.

Until he began to sing.

Tommy hadn’t heard anyone sing that song (Solider, Poet, King) since he was below the age of 10 and fighting sleep. Wilbur would always sing it following extravagant stories about knights fighting for their kingdoms.

It was enough to lull the boy into a light doze, and Dream quietly slipped away to tear some pages out of the books Tommy had vandalised, and used them to attempt to clean the vomit stained floor.

It wasn’t an act of compassion, more the fact it was beginning to stink.

It wasn’t just that. Tommy’s clothes had begun to give off a foul odour, which was understandable considering how much the kid had been sweating.

Still, Dream found it disgusting, and very carefully peeled the damp shirt from the child before washing it in the sink. It was due a change in water anyway.

The convict understood that feverish chills would still set in, and therefore he placed the shirt as close to the lava as he dared, praying it dried quickly.

Tommy continued to sleep lightly, continuously being plagued by nightmares that would cause him to squirm, groan and momentarily wake up before drifting back to sleep.

Dream knew a few hours had passed when his stomach felt empty, which he quickly replenished with the potatoes he was growing to enjoy.

Tommy’s shirt had now dried, so he took it over to the boy and began to gently wake him.

He considered screaming at the top of his lungs, but he knew he wouldn’t be easily forgiven if he did that in this state.

Instead, he gently nudged Tommy’s shoulder.

I mean, it seemed to work, as after only a few seconds the boy rolled onto his back, but sat up when he felt the cold floor on uncovered skin.

“You know, to say there’s lava right there...it’s fucking freezing in here.” Tommy complained, pulling his shirt back on and adjusting his bandana, before turning away and coughing into his elbow.

“At least you’ve got me to take care of you.” Dream said quietly, cutting himself off before he could insult Tubbo, Sam Nook or anyone else Tommy gave a damn about.

Tommy just groaned in response, leaning his back against the wall and once again taking deep breathes.

The lava was too bright on his sensitive eyes, and so he resorted to pulling the bandana over his eyes.

Honestly, it seemed to work, and Tommy found himself drifting back into a light doze, as Dream watched, once again perched on the sink.


End file.
